Lights Flicker And Fade : Kol Mikaelson [3]

238: Things We Lost In The Water

"You don't have to trust me," Kol wouldn't bother asking her too, "But do you really want to stand here, lecturing me, thinking anything you say will change anything."

She pursed her lips.

"Or do you want to ensure Davina isn't killed by the covens you lost everything for?"

Maybe his silver tongue was still good for something.

Down the end of the tunnel, there were two options. A path leading further under the city and an exit to the street level.

Ish.

MJ found herself breaking into a pantry, heading into a fancy house a few floors tall, a weird amount of spirits milling about, none of which seemed to pay her any attention. They were laughing together. A young child sitting by a piano, playing away as the adults clapped and cheered.

Her eyes rested on them.

Backing out of the busy living space and creeping up the stairs.

Yes, going upstairs rarely ended well, but she needed to think.

And she needed to see where she was without just walking outside and exposing herself to the hunters out for her blood. For something that wasn't even her fault! The ancestors were why the deaths had been so gruesome – they'd held Sam and Hayley between shifting instead of giving them control of their bodies.

Leaving MJ stood in a bedroom, a table filled with ingredients neatly organised. Sleek redwood furniture overlooking the dark night through large windows, giving a clear view of the world. Family portraits hanging on patterned wallpaper, pale pink, red, and white. Pillows on the desk chair, frilly edges perfectly puffed, bed made.

She narrowed her eyes.

The room was almost out of time.

Everything else in the ghost realm felt like it made sense. It reflected the real world, but even when MJ looked out the window, facing a modern street, the space behind her was from a different era. The spirits beneath her holding it from development.

"Hello?"

MJ spun around to face the empty room.

"Is someone there?"

The voice was female and sniffling.

"Please."

MJ scanned, dropping to the floor to check under the fancy king bed, only for her eyes to land on the closet behind it. White paint peeling, almost shaking as the sound of sobs grew stronger.

"I – I – "

"Who's there?"

Silence.

MJ raised an eyebrow, approaching the cupboard.

The spirit world was one of trickery, and MJ was semi-defenceless. Her survival skills were valuable, and she clearly had a bit of vampirism still with her, but she didn't want to rely on that. If she could get close enough to an attacker, it was okay – she was incredibly skilled in fighting, but these witches knew better than to rely on the physical.

There had to be a loophole.

The entire world was made of magic...

Time to be a magical leech?

MJ placed her hand on the cupboard door, closing her eyes and slowing her fake breathing. She didn't need to breath. She was literally a ghost. In her purest form. Her soul. And, her soul was the soul of a siphoner.